


I sing to use the Waiting

by middlemarch



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: American Civil War, Doctors & Physicians, F/M, Marriage, Mathematics, Romance, Science, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: She didn't knock; he wouldn't have heard her anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BroadwayBaggins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/gifts), [hufflepuffhermione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffhermione/gifts).



“Now I know she'll never leave me  
Even as she runs away  
She will still torment me  
Calm me, hurt me  
Move me, come what may  
Wasting in my lonely tower  
Waiting by an open door  
I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in  
And be with me for evermore…”

“You have a lovely voice, but that song is so sad and you know, not very apt anymore, thank goodness,” Mary said at his shoulder, setting the cup of tea down beside the microscope. It had been a difficult decision, whether to leave the expensive scientific equipment at Mansion House once they took up residence in the rented house on Prince Street, but ultimately, Jed had decided that he would be spending every spare minute at home now that he had one and that the microscope would get more use that way. Mary had found a sturdy case with leather straps, cleverly fitted with pockets and loops, that could hold every specimen he might transport; what its original purpose had been was the subject for late-night musings when they were pleasantly fatigued after love-making. It was the time she would tell him about the lack of progress she was making with her paper on the Cayley-Hamilton theorem and her resignation over never seeing it published, her frustration over stocking the pantry less than the library, the progress she was making in teaching Julia and Keturah to read.

“Mmm, I see,” he replied, peering at the slide, the melody still hovering at the edge of his thought. He felt her beside him but had grown comfortable enough that she would always be there, or somewhere near, that he did not lift his head from the ocular lens, twisting the fine focus knob very gently. Mary chuckled lightly and that was irresistible. He moved to face her and snuck the hand that had been on the instrument round her slender waist, tugging at the bow that held her apron in place.

“Jed! Whatever are you about?” she exclaimed. Oh, how he liked her tone of wifely indignation! It held the memory of their lively exchanges when she was the Head Nurse and he the Executive Officer, but there was something else, always the warmth of her abiding affection, the pleasure she took in him and a freeing of her justified exasperation which she restrained with nearly everyone else. 

“I think you know very well, May, what I’m about, but if you’d like a scientific explanation, I’m sure I can satisfy you,” he quipped, drawing her closer, hearing her laugh again, lower and softer. The melancholy air of the song was nearly dissipated by the sound; what remained was the faintest echo that only underscored the pleasure of holding his wife, the ease of the domestic sphere, the challenge of intellectual inquiry he’d become accustomed to sharing, aware of how rare it was within a marriage.

“Oh, you! Drink your tea before it cools and discover what is ailing Private Cartwright so you may cure him. He’s driving Miss Hastings to distraction and we’ll all pay the price for that. I shouldn’t like to have to soothe your temper if she becomes any more incensed. I don’t think you’ll be singing so sweetly into your microscope then,” Mary replied, pulling away from him a little, moving to pick up the fallen apron.

“Leave it off. You’ve worked enough in the kitchen. Why don’t you return to your paper and I’ll see how much further I get with a charming companion nearby? I promise not to disturb you with any more singing,” he wheedled. She said yes often and he was still trying to divine when she sought to please him and when it was truly her wish. He’d been right this time though, to see her eyes light up at the prospect of her books and her theorem, her proof on n x n matrices that Cayley thought was unnecessary.

“Fine. But you may sing if you like, as long as you know it isn’t true, that I’d ever leave,” she said. She took care to remind him in so many ways, with the tea he preferred to the chicory, the notations she left in his scientific journal, her voice and hands in the night when he woke from a nightmare of gunshots or the needle, of her being borne onto the ship in a coffin.

“Dr. Hale would do it justice, far better than I,” Jed offered, to let her know he understood and had been comforted.

“Well, of course he would, that goes without saying,” she began, piquant and adorable. He scowled dramatically to amuse her. “But I prefer you, in every way,” she added, reaching up to ruffle his hair, stroking her hand against his bearded cheek.

“Come now. If we are to work, let’s get to it. My zero matrix will not prove itself,” she said. He grinned at her, drank down half the tea in the cup, the bergamot fragrant and obviating any need for milk, and began to hum “She will still inspire me, be a part of/ Everything I do…”

**Author's Note:**

> BroadwayBaggins and HufflepuffHermione wanted a gif-set for Phoster with the lyrics to "Evermore" or barring that, a story. I do what I can.
> 
> Mary's current mathematic endeavors are regarding the following: In linear algebra, the Cayley–Hamilton theorem (named after the mathematicians Arthur Cayley and William Rowan Hamilton) states that every square matrix over a commutative ring (such as the real or complex field) satisfies its own characteristic equation. As for n × n matrices, Cayley stated “..., I have not thought it necessary to undertake the labor of a formal proof of the theorem in the general case of a matrix of any degree”.
> 
> The title is from Emily Dickinson.


End file.
